


Waking

by Callmesalticidae, DaneelsSoul, shadow_wasserson



Series: Building From Scratch [9]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Breakups, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 08:44:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9483437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callmesalticidae/pseuds/Callmesalticidae, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaneelsSoul/pseuds/DaneelsSoul, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadow_wasserson/pseuds/shadow_wasserson
Summary: TT: Perhaps the worst part of being dumped in a dream bubble is the requirement to wake up afterwords.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Act 4, Intermission 1 of Building from Scratch. Takes place shortly after the events at the end of Act 4.

=> Rose: Awaken

 

You cling desperately to Terezi. She is a beacon, a lifeline in a world that no longer makes sense. A world   
that no longer has a place for you. But other forces begin to pull on the edges of your consciousness.   
You shiver, feeling the cold nipping at your body on a meteor so far away. You feel the dream beginning   
to fade around you, and try desperately to hold on, but to no avail. Terezi fades from your arms and you   
open your eyes.

The room is dimly lit, with faint illumination creeping in under the door and around its edges, but you   
hardly need it to recognize the contours of this room. Mannequins, neatly arranged displaying her   
proudest works, fabrics decorating the walls. You roll over to look beside you. And it all comes crashing   
down again. Kanaya- is gone. Her indentation is still fresh in the pillow. Her smell still covers the sheets.   
But Kanaya- dear, caring, lovely Kanaya has gone.

In tears now, you take in the room one last time, but everything you see just drives memories of your   
loss, like knives deeper into your heart. The chair where the two of you would sit and read and   
sometimes kiss. The scarf you knitted her, she smiled so brightly as she opened the packaging. Her latest   
project, the one you watched her spend so many hours fussing over and taking measurements for. 

Each a memory that once brought warmth to your heart, the ones that helped sustain you over the long   
hard months on the meteor, now turned to pain by the knowledge that they are the last you'll have. No   
more of her lips, of her smile. No more of her caring touch, her sparkling laughter, or the pretty shade of   
green she turns when flustered. No more of her skin laid out before you, caressing yours. No more, no   
more.

You turn back to her pillow, the last piece of her left. You push your face into it to take in the smell one   
last time. You think you can make out faint green stains even in the darkness. You hope she cried. You   
know it's mean and petty, but you hope that she felt something for all the pain she's caused you. You   
pull the pillow to you, wishing that it was her.

You can't stay here. This room. Her room. Full of her stuff. And her memories. You need to leave. To   
crawl away. To curl up and hide from the world. From her. And so, summoning a strength you didn't   
know you still had, you somehow manage to force your limbs into motion. You legs swivel onto the   
floor. You take one step and then another, and you are at the door. A trembling hand opens it as you   
make your way into the cold air of the hallway.


End file.
